Chapter 1 : Obsession
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 8|
Change Background: Change Font color:
*Please note again that this is NOT slash! Just a mere short, sad story about one poor individual.*
It had been three years.
Three years since he had last seen her.
She, with her flaming red hair and emerald eyes... running off with him.
How could he...how could they?
He knew that he loved her...she knew that he loved her.
But they just didn't care.
No. Nobody ever cared about little Colin Creevey.
Nobody ever did, or ever will. I'm worthless, a piece of flesh that nobody even wants to know.
But I loved her.
And he was my hero.
No wonder they ended up together.
But it had been three years, with no sign or contact since then. But he was still brooding.
Still thinking that he and his Ginny were meant to be together. That Harry Potter was no less than a fake and a phoney with a head that was too big to get through the doorway of the great hall at his own graduation.
It had been only two years since Colin had graduated, three since Harry.
Three since he had last seen Ginny, for she had dropped out at the chance to be with the boy that had grown up to be the man she had always dreamed of loving, that she had hoped Harry would become.
It wasn't as though Colin didn't know where or what became of them in those three years.
Being Harry Potter, there was an article about him at least once a month. He and his sidekicks Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, going out and catching Death Eaters just to get a good mention in with Rita Skeeter.
And then there was the announcements. The first announcement came on the day before Colin graduated, when his love would have if it wasn't for him.
The announcement read that Harry and Ginny Potter had just given birth to two beautiful twin girls.
They must be about two now, he mused.
So, his love had gone off with his ex-hero, now enemy, and all of his friends were working at the Ministry.
So, what had he been doing for the past two years?
Well, it was really hard to put into words.
He had been brooding, thinking of his losses and writing them down on paper. He had become sort of the God of Depressing Literature in the wizarding world.
What a life.
He supposed that his obsession with death and torture in his poetry and novels didn't seem strangely similar to every one of his works, like a pattern, but he knew deep inside that it wasn't just a coincidence that his main victims were ones with green eyes and black hair, with big egos and little builds.
Colin knew that he knew too, for he had once received at letter with no return address stating that they knew his pattern, and that he should get mental help. It was a very kind note, but he knew who it was from.
Except when she left me, then she made me become this.
She made me become dark and brooding, depressive and obsessive.
She, with her with her flaming red hair and emerald eyes.
She ran off with him.